


Elf on the Shelf Comes to Pegasus

by Amycat8733



Series: Counting Stars 'verse [6]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 04:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12999879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amycat8733/pseuds/Amycat8733
Summary: Elves have come to Pegasus for Christmas and it’s up to the residents to deal with them. Mayhem and magic ensue.





	Elf on the Shelf Comes to Pegasus

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays!  
> This was to be my present to all of you last year, but events conspired against me and it didn't feel right to post a Christmas story in summer.  
> This just means you get it all this year!  
> Enjoy!  
> Beta by DorothyOz! All remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> For those of you not familiar with The Elf on the Shelf, here’s the background:  
> The story describes how Santa's "scout Elves" hide in people's homes to watch over events. Once everyone goes to bed, the scout elf flies back to the North Pole to report to Santa the activities, good and bad, that have taken place throughout the day. Before the family wakes up each morning, the scout elf flies back from the North Pole and hides. By hiding in a new spot each morning around the house, the scout elf and the family play an on-going game of hide and seek.  
> The Elf on the Shelf explains that scout elves get their magic by being named. In the back of each book, families have an opportunity to write their elf's name and the date that they adopted it. Once the elf is named, the scout elf receives its special Christmas magic, which allows it to fly to and from the North Pole.  
> The book tells how the magic might disappear if the scout elf is touched, so the rule for The Elf on the Shelf states, "There's only one rule that you have to follow, so I will come back and be here tomorrow: Please do not touch me. My magic might go, and Santa won't hear all I've seen or I know." Although families are told not to touch their scout elf, they can speak to it and tell it all their Christmas wishes so that it can report back to Santa accurately.  
> The story ends on Christmas Day with the elf leaving to stay with Santa for the rest of the year until the following Christmas season.  
> But this is Stargate, where even the most innocuous things are not always as they seem …

For many years, Elves have infiltrated homes on Earth under the premise of reminding children that Santa Claus was watching. A few had even dared to enter the SGC, but again, no one really paid attention to what the cute boy and girl elves were up to.

Until they came to Atlantis.

The first Elf was greeted with holiday cheer and seen as part of their connection to Earth as it appeared in various public areas of the city. Several more soon arrived and the Elves were assigned numbers as a mad betting pool arose with people making wagers on where each would appear next.

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, Military Commander of Atlantis, enjoyed watching the betting as long as the Elves stayed away from him. With his and Colonel Sam Carter's approval, a whiteboard was set up in the mess hall. A table and a locked security cage for pledged items were set up beside it and a rotation of Marines guarded the board to keep everyone honest.

At least John enjoyed it until he caught a flu two weeks before the Nondenominational Winter Holiday Celebration. He spent three days in the infirmary, in a darkened room with an IV suffering from joint aches, chills, a high fever and severe headaches. Once Carson pronounced him virus free, John retreated to his quarters to recover.

He stepped through the door and into his dimly lit haven and flopped onto his comfy bed. After they re-took the city from the Replicators, John had replaced his tiny bed with a much larger queen size with a firm mattress. He struggled upright and toed his boots off then crawled under the covers after reaching out and turning the lights off with a thought.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

To help him feel better, Teyla decided to bring John some tea on his first day back on duty. She arrived before he did and chatted with Amelia while waiting. The two women watched John as he made his way into his office, his slow movements telling as to how much he still ached. Carson had informed them that he would be sore for a few more days after his return to duty.

He gave them a wave as he walked in and Teyla waited a few minutes to let him get settled. She and Amelia were finishing their conversation when a shout rang out followed by something small and red exiting John’s office at high speed.

Teyla rushed over to see what was wrong. “John, are you alright?”

“Goddamn elves have no sense of privacy!”

“Where was it?”

“Damn thing was in my chair. I sat on it.”

Amelia stepped up beside her with the Elf in her hand. “Someone must have wanted to cheer you up, Sir.”

John shuddered as he looked at the smiling boy Elf in her hand. “Get rid of it. Those things look like miniature clowns.”

Amelia understood there was more to the story than her CO was going to share.

“Amelia, why not set it on your console that all may enjoy it,” Teyla said.

“Sir?”

John nodded as he dropped down in his now vacant chair. “That’s fine, Banks, and spread the word that my office is off limits to Elves.”

“Yes, Sir,” Amelia said as she hurried off.

Teyla set her basket down and brought out her teapot and a tin of leaves. “Do they bother you so much, John?”

“Yeah. The darn things are creepy; always smiling and just appearing anywhere they want.”

Teyla gave him a knowing smile. “Well, Amelia shall spread the word. Your office shall be an Elf free area.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

His office remained Elf free that day, but the next day the Control room was playing host to six of the eerily cheerful things. John felt as though he were being watched every time he stepped foot out of his office. It creeped him out so much that he went out on one of the sunny balconies to work.

On his fourth and last day of light duty, John walked to his office with a spring in his step. Tomorrow he could start getting back to his normal routines and he’d be back in trim by Christmas. As he entered the Control Deck, he looked for the Elves, but there were none to be seen. There were none in any of the labs when he fetched Rodney for lunch, nor were there any in the mess hall and the white board was empty of reported locations. John shoved the Mystery of the Missing Elves to the very back burner – he had other things to worry about than a bunch of stuffed toys.

After dinner, the team met and watched _Die Hard_ , the best Christmas movie ever in John’s opinion.

John knew his team were still concerned about his health, as evidenced by the way they kept bringing him drinks and snacks and making him rest. After the movie, he insisted he was fine to get to his quarters, but they insisted on seeing him there safely. Well, Ronon and Teyla insisted and Rodney got guilted into it, but hey, the thought counted.

He didn’t bother turning on the lights since there was plenty of moonlight leaking through his curtains. He toed his boots off then went to the bathroom. Coming back, he changed into a pair of old sweats and a t-shirt that he slept in. By that point, his energy was about gone. He flopped onto his bed and burrowed under the covers.

A few hours later, he woke to the feeling of being watched. He opened his eyes and discovered an Elf sitting on his nightstand staring at him. He snatched the disgustingly cute thing up, rolled over and pitched it through his hastily opened door out into the corridor, the door closing with a thump. After glancing around to make certain his quarters were Elf free, John burrowed beneath his covers once more.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Next morning during breakfast, Carson mentioned that he’d found one sitting beside his bed as had Ronon. Teyla told of finding one in her underwear drawer. Lorne joined them and said he’d also found one near his bed. John noticed the pattern and decided to see how widespread it was. After his team finished eating, he climbed up on the bench and whistled for silence.

“I have a question then you can get back to eating. How many of you found an Elf near your bed or in a drawer of clothes last night or this morning?”

Twenty-five hands went up. John counted noses and tallied the percentages.

“Thanks. Go back to what you were doing.” He sat down and faced his team. “About half the population is here right now and twenty-five elves are accounted for out of forty. Do any of you recall the number on your Elf?” All shook their heads no.

“So, either the elves lost their numbers, or we have more elves. I say we round them up and get rid of them.”

Teyla reached out and placed a hand on his arm. “John, do not be hasty. There are only two days until Christmas. Surely they can be tolerated that long?”

John considered it. He really wanted the things gone. “Fine. But I get to say, “told you so” when they show up in your bed.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Two days later, the sky was lightening with the coming dawn as John trudged through the door to his quarters. He leaned against it as it closed behind him with a sigh. He was exhausted after spending a good part of the night in the Chair helping Rodney and Radek on top of a full day on duty. He pushed away from the door and staggered to his bed. He placed his gun beneath his pillow then took his boots off and set them by the foot of the bed. His dirty BDU’s went in the laundry basket.

John glanced around his room as he made his way to the bathroom but saw nothing amiss. No spots of bright red, no pointy ears, no disgustingly sweet smiles. Nightly routine complete, John crawled into bed as Atlantis turned out the lights.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

A few hours later, John startled awake and shot upright to sit panting. He’d had the strangest dream of something caressing his skin and in his dream, it had touched a ticklish spot which was what woke him. He looked around his dimly lit room and, seeing nothing unusual, lay back down and closed his eyes.

Only to shoot upright once more and jump out of his bed, taking the covers with him.

“Lights!”

The room brightened immediately to reveal what had disturbed him – six cheerfully smiling Elves lay scattered on his bed near where he’d been. They had been the source of the touching.

“Alright, that’s it! No more Mr. Nice Guy!”

John snatched an empty laundry bag and scooped the Elves into it then tied it shut. He stood in the middle of his room breathing heavily, the bag clutched in one hand. A knock at his door startled him and he thought the door open as he spun towards it. The door slid aside to reveal Teyla with a cloth sack in her fist.

She stepped inside and marched over to John then held out the bag. “I apologize for my words Saturday. I found two of those … creatures in my shower then found three more beneath my bedcovers. You may do with them whatever you wish. If you need help, I shall be glad to assist you.”

“Thanks, Teyla,” he said as he opened his bag just enough for her to poke hers in. “Why don’t you go get dressed and let me do the same. We’ll meet in the mess hall in an hour.”

“Very well, I shall see you there,” she said as she placed her hands on his shoulders and bowed her head in thanks. John returned the gesture then she left. At a loss as to where to put his bag of Elves, John spied his footlocker. He opened it and shoved the bag in then shut and locked it.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

John made it to the mess hall with ten minutes to spare. No sooner had he crossed the threshold then he was surrounded by irate residents.

“I found an Elf in my bathroom!”

“I found one in my closet watching me as I dressed!”

“There were two of the pervy things in my bed with me!”

“Quiet,” John yelled in his best parade ground voice. The noise level dropped throughout the whole room.

“Now, I understand that all of you found Elves where you didn’t think they should be, right?”

A chorus of “yeses” echoed back.

“Did any of you capture the Elf or Elves responsible?”

Head shakes and “no’s” from those assembled.

“What are you planning to do, Colonel,” one of the scientists asked.

“The problem will be taken care of, I promise.” Some of the scientists grumbled but they dispersed. John was halfway to the chow line when his radio pinged.

“Sheppard.”

 _“Colonel, Teyla is with me and we’re in the Conference room,”_ Sam said.

“I’ll be right there. Let me get some food first.”

_“I have biscuit sandwiches here.”_

“On my way,” John said with a sigh and clicked his radio off. He gave the pancakes being served a last wistful glance then hurried off. He was almost to the Ops Deck when he remembered his bag of Elves. He ran to his quarters and retrieved it. In the corridor, he paused and opened the sack long enough to verify that the Elves were still there.

He hurried to the Conference room and shut the doors behind him. Sam was seated at one end of the table, Teyla at her side. Rodney was at the opposite end from Sam with Ronon and Lorne between them. John flopped into his seat where a bacon and egg biscuit awaited him and tossed the sack onto the table where it landed beside two more.

“I take it those are yours and Teyla’s pests,” Sam asked.

“Yep. I checked after I retrieved them from my quarters. They’re all eleven still in there. Whose are the others?”

“Two are mine, sir,” Lorne said from his seat at John’s right.

“Other two are mine,” Ronon rumbled from the opposite side of the table.

John glanced at McKay. “Rodney, any Elves in your bed?”

Rodney hit several keys on his laptop then stopped when he realized everyone was staring at him. “Hmm?”

John repeated his question. “Did you find any Elves in your bed?”

“Oh, no, I haven’t been to bed yet.”

“Sam?”

Sam had the grace to blush. “I fell asleep on the couch in my office.”

John ate more of his biscuit. Ronon passed him some chips and a bottle of water. “Any way we can track them?”

“No,” Rodney said. “They don’t show on the sensors.”

Sam pointed towards the three sacks on the table. “Well, we have quite a few specimens. We can run tests to see if they show on different wavelengths.”

John set his biscuit down. “I have a better idea.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The conference went on for a bit longer then, John headed back to his quarters. He left them outside while he opened one of the built-in drawers he’d discovered and retrieved two boxes of Snicker’s Bars from the last shipment Cam had sent. Thought about the number of Elves in the city and grabbed a third box then stuffed them into an empty backpack.

During the meeting, various locations had been suggested to use as a command post, but John won by pointing out that the mess hall was centrally located and that they didn’t need the Gate room crammed with civilians in case of emergency.

John nodded to the Marines on duty as he dropped his backpack behind the table. Ronon entered with Radek, pushing what appeared to be a miniature version of the holding cells which was probably used to transport specimens. He shoved it against the wall then came over to stand behind John. John noticed that, in addition to his blaster and numerous knives, that Chewie had his sword on today, which meant he wanted to get in on the fun.

Reaching up, he activated his radio. “Alright Banks, patch me into citywide.”

_“Yes, Sir. You’re on citywide.”_

“Attention residents, this is Colonel Sheppard. In celebration of Christmas, we are having a scavenger hunt. No, don’t dive for your laptops cause there’s no list. The object of the hunt is simple: anyone who captures an Elf and brings it to the mess hall in a recognizable condition gets a king-size Snicker’s bar from my personal supply. The hunt begins … now!”

John closed the connection and sauntered over to check out the cage. It did look like a smaller version of the Wraith holding cells with the thick horizontal bars, and, when he put his hand on it to “talk” to it, a force field that could be activated. There was also a small flap in the top in addition to the door on one end that could be used in order to stuff Elves in.

Lorne marched in, a familiar bag held in one hand. “McKay wanted to keep all fifteen, but Carter said no so here are the ones you and Teyla caught.”

“Thanks, Major. Anything else?”

“I’ve gotten several requests from the troops asking to participate.”

“The hunt is open to everyone.” He sighed then reached up and tapped his radio once more. “Banks, citywide again, please.”

_“You’re on, Sir.”_

“This is Colonel Sheppard. In case I wasn’t clear, the hunt is open to **_everyone_** in the city. On-duty personnel, if you find an Elf and capture it, you are to contact Major Lorne. Oh, and I do not want to hear of anyone breaking into private quarters searching for Elves. I **_will_** be checking the security feeds and violators will be punished.”

He closed the channel and gave Lorne a grin.

Lorne heaved a sigh. “Thanks, Sir.”

“Get Stackhouse or Waters to cover your shift as Duty Officer.”

“Thanks, Sir.”

On cue, Stackhouse marched in, a makeshift sack in one hand.

“Whatcha got, Stacks?”

“Two Elves, Sir.”

John opened the flap then motioned for Stackhouse to dump them in.

“If I may make a suggestion?”

John glanced at his XO and nodded.

“We should number the Elves before we dump them in,” Lorne said as he pulled a Sharpie from one of his pockets. “That will let us keep a census and make it easy to identify any that escape.”

“Great idea. Make it so.”

Lorne shook his head at the obvious Trek reference as he marked Stackhouse’s Elfin detainees and John just grinned. Reaching into his pocket, Lorne produced a second Sharpie. “Here, I wouldn’t want you to miss out on any of the fun, Sir.”

John snatched the marker and dropped his bag on the cage. As he marked each one, he dropped it into the cage to join its fellows. As he dumped the last one in and activated the force field, he glanced at the Elves and looked away then did a double take. Several of the Elves didn’t appear as happy as they had earlier Shrugging, John passed it off as an illusion brought on by exhaustion and headed off in search of a mug of strong coffee and a bite to eat.

No sooner had John made it to the serving area when a clatter sounded from the kitchen followed by a stream of heartfelt cursing. He moved to the kitchen door and poked his head inside. “Everything alright in here?”

A few more curses heralded the arrival of Gunny Ramirez. “Colonel, you will remove this … _criatura_ from my kitchen,” she said as she thrust a flour-speckled hand in his face.  

Surprised, John took a half step back before focusing on the Gunny’s fist. Clutched within her grip was an Elf. John reached out and took the floury Elf from her grasp. “No problem, Gunny. I wouldn’t want anything to interfere with dinner.”

Ramirez stalked off, calling over her shoulder. “Keep those things out of my kitchen or all will be eating M.R.E.’s for dinner.”

John glanced over his shoulder at the hot coffee and sandwiches then heaved a sigh as he returned to the containment module to deposit the dusty interloper.

No sooner did he dispose of the kitchen Elf than a mob of bickering personnel shoved their way into the mess hall. John winced as his low-grade headache blossomed.

“Attention!”

Lorne’s call brought the military elements to a halt. The sudden cessation of motion by the soldiers came with the bonus of silencing the civilians.

“Are you all five,” John asked into the silence as he stood to face them. “I’ve seen kids that haven’t eaten in a week act better. Now, form a line and anyone pushing or shoving will be sent to the back.” He returned to his seat and motioned to the first person in line. “I'll take you and Lorne will take the next. We'll call the rest of you as we finish.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Smiling, John called his next victim to the table with a wave of his hand and upended the pillowcase turned bag onto the table. Instead of one or more Elves, all that came out was chunks of stuffing and red material. Fingering the pieces of red fabric, John looked up at the scientist standing nervously before him. “Dr. Watts, what is this?”

“It’s what’s left of two Elves,” Watts said as he ceased his shuffling and drew himself up to his not-so-impressive height of five foot three. “You do know what an Elf is, or did all of that hair gel you oh-so-obviously use solidify what few brain cells the military left you that you hadn’t killed off by eating lead paint chips as a child?”

John’s smile vanished in a blink as he leaned back in his chair. “Well, Dr. Watts, you’re wrong on several counts. First, this material did not come from an Elf. The Elves are polyester-cotton, and this is felt. Secondly, I use no product in my hair whatsoever and my team can attest to that. And I have no idea how you contrived the misguided notion that only poor, stupid people join the military. I have two Masters and a Ph.D. and am one dissertation away from a second. Lorne here has Masters degrees in Geology and Political Science and Lieutenant Tarek is eight credit hours shy of completing his first Masters. So, do not assume that any of us are in the military because we have no other options.”

John leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “Now, I suggest you leave before one of these good folk decides to take exception to your attempted trickery and does something I'd have to write them up for.”

The crack of popping knuckles sounded from the line and Watts startled, then shrank in on himself and fled the mess hall. Before John could twitch a finger toward the mess in the table, one of the mess hall servers swooped in, swiped the debris from the table with a rag, and deposited a mug of steaming coffee in his wake. John picked up the mug and inhaled, the scent of fresh coffee filling his nose. He caught the server’s eye and nodded his thanks.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Yawning, John scooped his last two Elves off the table and stood, bringing his arms in then up in a stretch to relieve the tension in his shoulders. Who knew drawing numbers on dolls could be so tiring? As he reached full extension on his stretch, a sharp pain radiated from his hand and he let out a yell as he flung the pair of Elves into the holding cage, blood spattering in their wake. “Son of a bitch!” Reaching down, he drew a field bandage from his thigh pocket, shook it out and pressed it against the wound.

“Sir, are you alright?”

“Yeah. Damn thing bit me.” John lifted the bandage and peered beneath it. Blood coated his palm and continued to well from a ragged, circular wound.

“That’s going to need stitches,” Lorne said.

John opened his mouth to reply, a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue, when his radio went off. “Sheppard.”

_“Thanks to you, I’ve wasted my entire day.”_

“Rodney, what are you talking about,” John demanded testily as he settled for glaring at his XO.

_“The Elf dolls. These things are no more alive than my Aunt Mable’s pet rocks and she swore those not only moved during the night but that they also spoke to her.”_

“Well, I happen to disagree with you,” John told his teammate as he re-wrapped his injured hand then headed for the door. Corporal Dunn, one of the Marines who’d just benefitted from Elf hunting, attached himself to John’s side in response to an inconspicuous gesture from Lorne. John didn’t feel he needed a bodyguard, but he wasn’t going to argue.

_“What’s your proof?”_

“The hole in my hand where one just bit me,” John told him as he neared the transporter. Every step was making his hand throb.

 _“Hah! I doubt that as these things have no teeth,”_ Rodney crowed into his ear.

“Well, one did. In front of witnesses. And the security cameras.”

_“Where is it now?”_

“In the containment cube with the rest of them.”

_“You should have held onto it so I could study it!”_

“Oh, yeah, like I’m going to continue to hold onto something that’s taking chunks out of my hand,” John said, sarcasm knob turned way up past eleven. He stepped into the transporter, his shadow a half-step behind him. Dunn tapped the screen for the unit nearest the infirmary as he was closer to the screen. John closed his eyes just in time and reopened them after the afterimage from the flash faded. Normally, the transporter didn’t bother him, but it was not conducive to headaches.

_“But…”_

“No, no buts, Rodney. If you want to study it, you can fish it out of the cage. Just look for the Elf with my blood on its face.” John reached up and closed the connection then pulled his transceiver from his ear and stuffed it in his pocket for good measure.

Stepping into the infirmary, John literally ran into Carson.

“Colonel, what brings you to my domain,” Carson asked as he steadied John.

“This,” John replied as he held up his hand for emphasis.

“What happened,” Carson asked as he steered John towards the nearest exam table.

“I got bit …by an Elf.”

Carson nearly missed the stool he'd pulled beside the bed, head whipping around to stare at John. “Did you say an Elf?”

“Yep. And I have witnesses and the security feeds if you doubt me,” John said defensively.

Carson patted him on the knee as he placed John's hand on a small rolling table. “Nay, lad, I believe you. I've felt there was something off about those wee beasties from the beginning. Now, lie back and let me look at yer hand so you can get back to rounding those sprites up.”

Carson removed the bandage then irrigated the injury, hissing at what was revealed. “Well, lad, that wee Elf took a chunk out of ye.”

John grimaced from his reclined position. “Tell me something I don't know.”

“I can't stitch it closed.”

“What? Why not?”

“The stitches would pull the surrounding skin too tight. I do need to put a few stitches in to stop the bleeding and clean it, as well as removing the jagged edges, but that's it. When I dress it, I'll put a treated pad on it, but the hole will have to close on its own.”

John heaved a sigh. At least the damn Elf took a chunk out of his left hand. If it had been his right, he’d be asking Ronon to fish that Elf out of containment and turn it into mincemeat. “Do what you have to, Doc.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

An hour later, John stepped foot outside the infirmary, his numb left hand encased in bandages and the entire arm resting in a sling. John had protested the sling, but Carson insisted, stating that he'd be less likely to forget and attempt to use the hand if it wasn't available. He debated whether to head to his quarters or return to the mess hall, but his stomach rumbled, making the decision moot.

John was halfway to the mess when a dark shadow fell in at his heels. “Ronon. How's goes the hunting?”

“Found these in your quarters,” Ronon said, holding out one of his longer knives, three Elves impaled upon it.

“Why were you in my rooms?”

“I was looking for more Snickers bars. Lorne’s almost out.”

John snorted. “I learned my lesson after you devoured the ten pounds of M&M’s that I ordered for Teyla’s birthday party last year.”

“Wouldn't have if you'd labeled them.”

John let out a bark of laughter then cast a glare at his teammate. “You'd have still eaten a good portion of them.”

Ronon shrugged. “Probably. I was bored.”

They detoured to John’s quarters and John pointedly left Ronon in the hall, shutting the door between himself and his Satedan teammate. Knowing it would foil Ronon’s sharp ears, John hit play on his iPod, filling the room with the rock sounds of Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s _Wizards in Winter_. With his movements masked, John went to his wall safe and withdrew another box of Snickers bars, tucking them into his sling to keep his good hand free.

John shut the music off before exiting his quarters. Stepping outside, he expected to find Ronon leaning against the wall by his door, only to find him propping the far wall up instead. John dipped his chin Ronon’s direction, acknowledging his friend’s discretion. The big Satedan nodded his thanks and the pair resumed their trip to the mess hall.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

They were almost to the mess hall when Ronon suddenly ran off. John, mindful of his throbbing hand and head, decided that he didn’t feel up to that much exertion. Ronon would handle whatever was going on, or at least get it under control.

John came to an abrupt halt at the threshold to the mess. And mess was the right word. Chairs and tables lay on their sides. The decorations, hung with care by the residents, were wrecked, dangling haphazardly from the ceiling. The presents were trashed, their pieces scattered in clumps of unrecognizable debris throughout the room.

The reason for this became obvious when John looked toward the containment cell. The cage was open and empty. The Elves that were supposed to be in it were scattered through the room in clusters ranging from three to a dozen. One group of Elves was pelting several of the botanists with peppermints while another large group worked at cocooning some unlucky soul in red and green plaid ribbon. Other Elves were swinging from the beams overhead on long ropes made of tinsel or playing ice hockey with candy canes.

As he watched, an Elf sailed past to impact against the wall. John followed the Elfin missile back and traced it to Lorne, a satisfied expression on his face and a metal serving dish in his hands.

Screams to his right drew John’s attention. Swiveling, he found a female scientist partially bound with red ribbon being menaced by a six pack of Elves. Two were on her shoes staring up her skirt, two more hanging from her shoulders to caress her breasts and the last two appeared to be tangled in her hair. John headed toward the beleaguered scientist, drawing his combat knife as he went. Tears of pain and anger streaming down her face, Dr. Strauss kicked the two on her shoes off and was shaking her head in an attempt to dislodge the two in her hair when John and two Airmen arrived. John took care of the remaining perverts while the Airmen, both female, untangled the others from Strauss’ hair.

Jenkins and Sterns, the two female Airmen, freed Strauss then wrapped her in a protective hug while they checked her over for injuries. Strauss sniffled and wiped her face with a handkerchief one of the other two women produced.

“Colonel, ladies, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” John replied. “Jenkins, Sterns, why don’t you escort Dr. Strauss out of here.”

Jenkins gave a sharp nod. “Will do, Colonel.”

Around him, other soldiers and some civilians were trying to corral the Elves, but the Elves were having none of that. A red blur headed for him and John reacted by picking up the nearest object, which turned out to be a tray, and using it as a shield. Quickly calculating speed and trajectory, John swung his shield/weapon and deflected the incoming Elf missile in Ronon’s direction. Long association enabled John to predict the Satedan’s actions and soon the Elf found itself pinned to the wall with a belly full of steel.

Flush with success, John scanned the area, his gaze lighting on the ribbon wrapped mummy lying near the cage. The Elves had abandoned their victim to move to something else. John tucked his tray under his left arm, drawing his combat knife as he knelt beside the unfortunate victim.

Using only the tip of his blade, John slowly parted the binding ribbon. Considering the location of the poor soul beside him, John guessed that he was unwrapping Rodney. A guess that was proved correct as the outer layer fell away to reveal a gagged and very pissed off Rodney. John slit the gag then took care of the rest of the ribbon.

“Sheppard! Give me your gun!”

John glanced around, but, other than the Elves, there was nothing to shoot. “What are you planning to shoot, the Elves,” he asked as he removed the rest of Rodney’s bonds.

“Yes! The shameless pieces of Christmas propaganda overwhelmed me and tied me up while I was trying to study them! I opened the cage to get the one that bit you and they… they… they jumped me!” Rodney then proceeded to list, in excruciating detail, every indignity – real or imagined – that had been perpetrated upon his person by the Elves.

Breaking glass drew John’s attention away from his teammate’s monologue. He swiveled on his heels to see the Elves massing overhead into one huge lump. He shot a glance at the mess hall doors, but they were taped shut. John couldn’t tell what kind of tape, but it was covered in bright designs and probably very sticky.

Without taking his eyes from the red, blue and green glob of Elves, John reached out to Rodney. “McKay.”

Rodney caught John’s tone and quieted instantly.

“We need to find cover,” he said quietly, but even as the words left his mouth, John knew it was too late. The mass broke apart with large groups aiming at the Lanteans.

“Incoming!”

 John grabbed Rodney and scrambled for a pile of tables. The pair wedged themselves in just in time as a wave of Elves dashed themselves against the tabletops.

“Do something, Sheppard!”

“Like what, McKay? I can’t shoot them all! I only have two clips with me.”

“Do … do … I don’t know … something!”

The tables started rattling and Rodney hunched in on himself, moaning.

Suddenly, the lights went out.

A loud whooshing filled the room, and there arose such a clatter. John peered through a gap between two of the tables and caught a flash of red in the light seeping in from the patio. Something that sounded suspiciously like sleigh bells jangled in the darkness.

A wave of sleepiness swept over John and he shook his head to clear it. Something was going on and he wanted to know what. A second upsurge of drowsiness overcame him, and John yawned. His eyelids grew heavy and though he struggled against it, sleep overcame him, and he sank to the floor.


End file.
